LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



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A TRUE STORY i BURNING OF KINGSTON ; 

FOR GIRLS AND BOYS, AND OLDER PEOPLE. 

BY MARY WESTBROOK. 



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FREEMAN STEAM PRINT, RONOOUT, N. Y. 



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S Si'kve I^ittle ]\/[cud of tl\e f(evolutior\. 



A TRUE STORY OF THE BURNING OF KINGSTON ; 
FOR GIRLS AND BOYS, AND OLDER PEOPLE. 



y>^r<? P ' 



BY MARY VVESTBROOK 




18S4: 



THE KINGSTON FREEMAN PRINTING AND PUBLISHING COMPANY 
KINGSTON, N. Y. 



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COPYRIGHT BY 

MRS. J. L. VANDEUSEN, 

1884. ^y{/^ 



WITH A HEART OERFLOWIXG WITH 
PRECIOUS MEMORIES 

-^^TO MY MOTHER,^^^ 
Sarah Beekman Westbrook, 

THE youngest CHILD OF ''LITTLE RACHEL," 

lovingly, tenderly, i inscribe this story. 

Mary Westbrook 



The Weinberg, 
Kingston, N. Y., i{ 




Senate House, Kingston, N. Y. 



KACPiEL DuMONT; 



^^^ (graVG kittle Gir^! oF tl^e F^cVoIatioo. 



A TP^JJE STOI^Y. 



CHAPTER I. 



jr^^NE hundred and seven years ago, on the sixteenth of October, 
^SMjj a perfect day of Indian -summer, a smiall village nestling 
■^^""^ under the Catskill mountains, was startled early in the 
morning by the cry: "The British soldiers are coming!"' Of 
course, young readers, you know this was during our Revolutionary 
War. This v/ar, was fought, you remember, to free our American 
colonies from the unjust tyranny of Great Britain, and to establish 
a government for ourselves — under which government, through 
God's goodness, we are living to-day. The rural settlement which I 
have just spoken about, was Kingston, a place of much importance 
during this long struggle for freedom. Gen. Washington often had 
his headquarters here, and the house in which he stopped is still 
standing. To go back to my story : In this village lived a brave 



6 I^acr)cl J©)urr)or)f, 

little girl, fifteen years old, by the name of Rachel DuMont. She 
was the eldest child of an invalid father and mother, and had three 
sisters and one brother. Rachel was the little mistress and house- 
keeper. In the house, beside the immediate family, were twenty 
slaves, over whom the little maid kept a kind supervision, for 
slavery, in a mild form, then prevailed in New York. Some of these 
family servants had grown quite old and infirm, and some were 
children younger than Rachel herself. She was the darling little 
"missy" all of the bond-children loved and almost w^orshipped. 
And truly the child was worthy of all the affection they so freely 
lavished upon her. She was ever careful for all their wants, and 
always treated them kindly and considerately. On the day v/hen 
this sudden cry spread through the hamlet, every man that was able 
to fight, or enlist as a soldier, was away with the army under Wash- 
ington, and none v^-ere left to guard the women and children save 
the sick and very old. These, of course, could net do much, so 
the women and children had to act the part of soldiers, and nobly 
many of them did their duty. But none excelled the young damsel 
Rachel, who showed, in readiness for the crisis, a careful manage- 
ment and forethought far beyond her years. 

" The British are coming!" sounded and resounded o'er the 
beautiful plains of the quiet village. And well the inhabitants knew 
what that meant. It had been rumored that Kingston was to be 
burned by the British soldiers, so as to cut off the supplies from the 
rebel army, which came largely from the rich farms bordering this 
old Dutch settlement. Some Tory families, living in Kingston, had 



^ Jirav'c Ilifflc ^irl of f^G I^c^olufior). 7 

given this information to the British officers, upon the assurance 
that they should find protection. Yes, dear youth, even one hun- 
dred years ago, there were a few ready to betray their country should 
their own interests not suffer thereby. Ignoble souls ! Let us, if 
we can, draw the veil of charity over their misdeeds. 

On the eventful morning of the entrance of the enemy in this 
camp of women and children, Rachel was arrayed in a most be- 
coming holiday attire, consisting of a white tunic, (or short-gown, 
as it was then called) and blue skirt or petticoat, reaching midway 
between the knee and ankle, and long blue silk stockings, with 
black pumps, ornamented with large silver buckles. Her hair, 
which was chestnut brown, was closely tucked under a dainty white 
muslin cap, save a few stray curling locks, which chafed at the 
restraint, and sported with wild abandon on the soft autumn breeze. 
It was the little girl's fifteenth birthday, and it was to be celebrated 
with as much festivity as the perilous times would allow. The girls 
and boys of the village had been invited to spend the day with 
Rachel in the large front-yard of the old family mansion. Caesar, 
the most venerable of the men-servants, over whose brow the gray 
hair was deftly braided in honor of the day, and Isabel, his wife, 
with a bright red turban and clean white apron, were to preside ove^- 
the supplies of the kitchen — which, let me whisper right here — con- 
sisted only of suppawn and milk. And the whole crowd of servants — 
forming almost a colony — -were already robed in their very best — the 
girls and women in gray homespun petticoats, with blue waists and 
'kerchiefs, yellow turbans and pink aprons. The boys and men also 



8 ]^acl)el DulT)or)f, 

in gray linse3'-\voolsey suits — roundabouts and trowsers — and braided 
hair, which was made to stand out like the waxed moustache of the 
present day. They were to have games on the still soft, sweet, 
green grass: ''Oats, peas, beans and barley grows," "Hunt the 
slipper," "Pillows and keys," etcetera, and then they were to have 
their refreshments on the same rich beautiful lawn, with the blue 
canopy of Heaven over their heads. 

Isabel had spread the whitest of table-cloths over the improvised 
table for the great party, and the old blue china brought from Hol- 
land, by Rachel's mother, and the antique silver cream -pitcher from 
the same mother-country graced this neatly-laid board. The pitcher 
I must describe, as being now in possessession of one of the great- 
grandchildren of little Rachel. I can tell you just how it looks. 
The most quaint old tankard, poised on three carved feet, large at 
the base, and sloping upward to the most delicate of necks and 
throats. So, although only a pudding made of Indian meal, with 
rich creamy milk, was to be the repast, there was a certain style to 
be observed in the serving of the same, which betokened somewhat 
the social status of the little girl's parents. I had forgotten to tell 
you that Rachel's father was a French Huguenot, and his eldest 
child had inherited all the gay vivacity and graceful manner of the 
French race. Yet how I do digress ! The morning of the fete 
chcimpctre, the little Rachel was in the most brilliant of spirits, and 
her deep gray eyes fairly danced with delight, yet a wistful, far-away 
look in the happy child-face, truly foretold the tragic drama of this 
eventful day. She had just descended from her room, in the gabled 



J\ jorai^e Lsillle QipI oj ft)e r^ev'olufior). 9 

attic of the old stone house, and had gone to the front porch to see 
the arrangements for her lawn party, when the alarm — ''The British 
are comin^^ ! " — fell upon her ear. Instantaneously, without moving, 
she lifted her eyes aiul heart to the "God of battles " for succor and 
guidance. Then, while a mantle of light seemed to envelop her, 
hastily she summoned the men servants and told them to get the 
large wagons, with the tried family and farm horses, in immediate 
readiness. Quietly she went to the invalid parents, who were each 
reclining on a lounge-chair, and told them unexcitedly as possible 
that the enemy was near, and that she thought best to move the 
family over the creek, which bordered the village, and which was, 
at that time of the day, fordable. 

Instinctively the mother and father submitted to the guidance of 
their liitle daughter, seeming to regard her as specially commissioned 
to save them. They were quickly ready to be lifted in the first 
wagon by the servants, who then placed the younger children in the 
same conve}ance. Caesar's eldest son, Elijah, was given the post of 
trust lor ihis precious load — the idolized family of the little "missy." 
And with a good portion of the old j)rophct's sagacity did this stal- 
wart coachman start on his journey over the Esopus creek. 

Rachel, fondl}' embracing her parents, sisters and brother, who 
implored her to come with them. — bade them good bye with a lov- 
ing, strong voice, telling them (jod would bring her safely to them 
when she had attended to the rest of her charge. Then directing 
the men to lift old Dinah, Cx'sar's mother, who was bed-ridden from 
rheumatism, in ihe next wagon, and one of the little slave children. 



lO ]^aol)el ©u^or)l. 

who was sick, she quickly gave orders to fill up this load with the 
mothers having babies and young children. Pompey, Dinah's 
second grandson, was placed in charge of his grandmother, the 
mothers, babies (and horses,) and started on his way. He too, 
rose to the dignity of the occasion, and vociferously shouted in the 
old woman's ear, " Don't be scared, Mammy!. The Britishers can't 
catch us ! " And if dey's do, onegimpseof yer red turban, and red- 
coak would make em tink we wos jis dem own folks ! So no danger 
for us ! " And putting the whip to the horses in a veiy energetic 
manner, although he protested he "wasn' 'feared," reached the 
borders of the creek on the northwest of the village, just as the red- 
coats were seen approaching the lowlands on the northeast. Yet 
brave Pompey did not say he had caught sight of these red-coats to 
the old Mammy. For once he restrained his fright somewhat. Yet 
his eye-balls rolled with a very uncertain glare, as ever and anon he 
peeped back over his shoulders. 

Filling another smaller wagon with a few of the household 
treasures — the silver and china which had been brought out of the 
house,, fortunately, for the grand party, Rachel gave this in charge 
of Uncle Ned, Pompey's father. He quickly followed in the wake 
of the preceding wagons, looking neither to the right nor the left, 
'*les I'se might be changed to a pillar of salt," he said. Poor old 
Uncle Ned, faithfully and literally applied all the bible warnings. 

Now, the little girl for one moment, went in the dear old house, 
to take a parting look at the home of her birth, whose rooms were 
filled with so many endeared, hallowed associations, even to a child. 



A jBra^G bifflc Qirl of il)e I^c^olufior). I I 

For an instant the tears o'erflowed her eyes and face ; but, dashing 
them away, she kneeled by the side of her mother's chair, and lifting 
her eyes once more Heavenward, asked her Father in Heaven to go 
forth with her and her beloved ones, and lead them to a place of 
safety. Then, rising from her lowly posture, she braced herself for 
the trying ordeal. 

By this time all the inhabitants had fled to the woods, and 
different places they thought safe, saving what they could. Already 
had the torch been applied to the dwellings on the outskirts of the 
village, by the scouts, and the lurid flames threw an unearthly light 
over the face and figure of little Rachel in her holiday dress. The 
men and women servants had all collected about her, waiting for her 
to lead them forth. Every eye was on the little maid, and every arm 
ready to be raised in her defence. As she left the house, she had 
caught up a red scarf, which had lain in the hall, which she care- 
lessly threw over her shoulder and draped around her waist, thus 
unconsciously, with the blue skirt, and white tunic, girding herself 
with her country's colors. Happy augur ! * Thus was our little 
''Lieutenant-General'" robed for the fiery trial, through which she 
was to pass, then stepping quickly in the midst of the waiting 
servants, with sparkling eyes, though her face was pale, with firm 
voice, lifting her right hand over her head she said : "In God is our 
trust ! Come, my well-loved ! We will not be afraid ! He who 
led His chosen people through the waters of the Red Sea,— He shall 
be with us ! And though the fiery flames envelop us, He will be at 
our side and lead us forth unharmed." 



CHAPTER 11. 



O DID this truly inspired child breathe hope and confidence in 
t'(^1) ^^^ little band under her guidance. And valorously did she 
■■^j^' march at the head of her followers, never flagging, until she had 
safely guided them over the water to the desired haven. Then her 
thoughts quickly went back to the old home. Suddenly as though 
some one had been forgotten, she darted away, and fairly flew to the 
grounds which had so long yielded all the supplies of the family. It 
was just about harvest time and the beautiful fields of corn were wav- 
ing and bowing with their tasseled helmets, seeming like a great army 
of warriors, to protect this lone little girl. The buckwheat was also 
in its most beauteous of dress, frisking and gamboling with the soft 
breeze, as though no ruthless sword nor flaming torch, were even 
then held over its head. All was serene and peaceful, just for that 
moment, as the ominous lull, that so often precedes the outburst 
of the storm. The child saw and felt it all ! Never could she forget 
these beautiful fields ripe for harvest, swaying and bending with 
their precious sheaves. They were graven on her heart never to be 
erased. Neither could perish from her memory the sense of 



^ jBra^c hiitU QiA of ll)c l^e^olulior,. I 3 

impending woe, Avhich now weighed upon her Hke some terrible 
nightmare. What had brought her back to her home? She had 
thought of the cows, chickens and pigs that were in the barnyard 
near the house, and she had come to save these animals, if possible, 
even at the risk of her own life, or of being taken prisoner, which 
was worse than death. The cows were Rachel's especial pets, and 
their soft, dreamy eyes ever had a strange fascination for the little 
girl. They were wont to follow her, and come at her call, as did 
the chickens, large and small, and even the great, fat mother-svv'ine, 
with her family of nine frisky pigs, never for an instant hesitated 
when Rachel spoke So now, as she abruptly appeared among 
them and said "come!" the entire "caravan," as one, sprang 
to do her bidding. With the inborn knowledge of coming events 
which animals largely possess, they had scented danger in the air, 
and plainly showed by their manner, their delight, when their 
deliverer came for their rescue. 

Rachel, with all these friends closely following her, turned her 
steps to the largest corn-field — the most remote from the house and 
village, and where there was a spring of good water, and field of 
grass adjoining. There she led her flock in "richest, greenest 
pastures, beside the still waters. " Then telling them to stay there 
until she came, she patted the cows' faces, with their sad eyes turned 
to hers, and even stooped to say something in an unknown tongue 
to the pretty, soft, little chickens, and chubby awkward pigs, who 
seemed to understand. At least they kept their eyes fixed upon their 
little mistress, and quietly remained where she had placed them. 



14 



I^acl^cl Du^o^f, 



"Goodbye, goodbye dear, old darlings!" called Rachel, as 
lightly she sprang over the log fence. "I will come for you as soon 
as I can ! '"' The child never forgot to reassure even an animal. She 
was their best friend, and with true instinct they knew it, as they 
showed by always coming to her when sick, or hurt, and bringing 
their young too, for comfort. 




CHAPTER III. 



'HE field where Rachel had left her ''pets" was very near to the 
rluji creek, which was yet to be forded. The water had now risen 
'-^^'"^ much higher, and was well-calculated to intimidate a much 
older person than our heroine. Still, nothing daunted, the little girl 
espied some rocks here and there, jutting their uneven, ragged edges 
above the water. So she thought she could jump or spring from stone 
to stone, and thus reach her beloved mother and father, sisters and 
brother. She was the best dancer of the village maidens, and a 
famed adept in dancing the minuet. Perhaps, young friends, you 
know all about these old-fashioned dances from your great, great 
grandmothers ; so I v.ill only say, that to dance well, in olden times, 
one had to be very lithe and agile, and be able to jump a littie — 
gracefully, of course. Thus our brave little Rachel soon was leaping 
from one rock to another like some young deer, choosing the m.ost 
perilous places. And very beautiful was the sight of this young girl 
with her gay dress and floating, red scarf, poised on stone after 
stoQe, with all the speed and grace of a fawn. Her cap had fallen 



I 6 I^aoljel DuBporjf, 

off in the water, and the chestnut hair, gleaming with gold in the 
sunlight, fell over her shoulders, below the waist in the most 
attractive neglige. 

Now she stands perfectly still, posed on a rock which seems too 
far away from another to leap, yet once. She had unconsciously taken 
the most graceful of postures. One foot slightly forward of the other, 
standing on tip-toe, she was looking where to take the next step. 
Forward she could not go: and, turning in desperation partly, to 
her old home, she caught sight of the British army — crossing the 
lowlands — entering Kingston. It was then about twelve o'clock, 
and the sun shown directly down on the brightly polished arms and 
red uniform of the soldiers, making them to glisten with brilliance, 
which so entranced the child — she could not move. The soft, low 
beat of the drum had also reached her ear, and she, the child of a 
soldier, full of martial enthusiasm, forgot everything but the glittering 
array and brilliant approach of a grand army, with drums and fifes, 
playing well known old airs. Rachel had ever been a strange child, 
keenly sensitive to all impressions, and had often been rallied upon 
her " queer ways." Now she saw and felt nothing but the dazzling 
splendor of this grand army of marching soldiers in shining armor. 
She was fairly enchained to the spot She thought not of her danger, 
but was filled with childish ccstacy and delight at the brilliant 
pageant. Her French nature fairly reveled in the bright colors of 
the British, and their glistening guns, and she could not take her 
eyes away. The sun, as I have said, shone so directly upon them, 
and so intensified the glittering, that Rachel was obliged to shade 



^ pra^c hmU QiA office I^e^olufioi). I 7 

her eyes with her hands, that she might still gaze on. Would that 
some one of our gifted American artists could have transferred to 
canvass this child-woman as she there stood amid the waters of the 
Esopus creek. No other would be needed to immortalize his genius 
or skill. Noble, heroic maiden ! Lifted above and out of herself 
and hazardous surroundings, and intently looking with a child's 
artlessness and fearlessness upon this band of marauders that were to 
lay desolate her fondly loved home. 

Rachel remained in this strange position, with her hands still 
shading her eyes, perfectly motionless, still gazing at the moving 
army, slowly entering the village — many minutes. The flames on 
the outskirts of the town, where the scouts had applied the torch, 
were increasing rapidly. Already the wind was carrying the cinders 
from the burning barns all around this fairy Undine, on her island 
in the sea, and the smoke of the falling homes had reached the heart 
of the little maid well nigh suffocating her. She could not longer 
look toward this flaming mass. Suddenly she awoke to a sense of 
her dangerous situation. Hot, blinding tears shut out all the 
glittering arms and bright uniforms, and the cries of the dazed 
inhabitants from their different coverts drowned the music of drum 
and fife. Yes, Rachel was awake and fully roused to the import of 
what was impending. She must reach her parents ! They would 
be agonized at her delay ! Summoning all her courage and again 
lifting eyes and heart heavenward, she gave the leap — to what? But 



i8 



I^Gtcriel jQ)urr)or)f, 



the ever loving Father had His eye on this brave child ! His arms 

were about her ! Distinctly she felt the unseen Presence, and 
submitted to the Strength which she knew environed her. Her feet 

now rested on the Rock, sure and steadfast ! She was saved ! The 

waters did seem to roll back ! And a path was made whereon the 

little girl reached the opposite shore in safety. 




CHAPTER IV. 




lERY proudly Rachel stepped on terra-firma once more with a 
" heart overflowing with gratitude to the dear Friend who had 
so truly been with her. The little sisters and brother, with 
the servants, had been watching her from the shore, powerless to 
help. As the child leaped in the arms extended toward her, 
unscathed, arose such a cry of thanksgiving and praise as only a 
negro's fervent nature can send forth. "Our little missy! Our 
little missy ! Jesus did carry de little lamb in His bosom ober de 
rolling water 1 BressdeLor'! BressdeLor'! Hallelujah, Hallelujah!" 
The little girl, quiet, but beaming with joy, soon hushed the 
kindly enthusiastic though rather noisy demonstrations of her staunch 
friends, and hastened, surrounded by this " guard o' the leal,'"* to her 
anxious mother and father. They had taken refuge at an old farm 
house about a mile from the creek, and were each on a rude settee, 
watching for their hearts' idol. As they saw her approaching and 
knew that she was safe the mother fainted. The long watching, with 
the terrible uncertainty had almost snapped the thread of life ; and 
when the darling figure of her child, her first-born, was seen in the 
distance, the reaction nearly proved fatal 



20 ]^Grcl)cl E)u^oi)i, 

Touching indeed was the solicitude of the sick husband and father 
in trying to arouse the drooping form of his wife; "She is here! 
She is here ! " the poor man called to his surviving companion. 
Slowly, the eyes opened, a faint color came to her cheek, and Rachel's 
mother lived to clasp her beloved to her heart once more. Too 
sacred was the scene now to lift the veil, even though one hundred 
years have cast their soft, mellow haze over the touching picture. 
The little maid, robed in the ''red white and blue," kneeling beside 
the reclining parents, while the brother and sisters and servants 
pressed close about her : the father, in strong voice, sent earnest 
thanksgiving to the Heavenly Father, for restoring to them their child. 
''Amen and amen ! '' ''Bress de Lor' ! " were the frequent responses 
and ejaculations, breaking in upon or enhancing this hallowed hour. 




CHAPTER V. 

^ j5,ND now the family were en-masse, watching the progress of the 
terrible fire-fiend, which they could very clearly trace. With 

^^^ suffused eyes and beating hearts, entwined in each others' 
arms, silently they witnessed home after home succumb and fall 
before the destroyer. Their own beloved walls were among the last to 
be consumed by the flames. Slowly, yet surely, the stealthy foe crept 
and hissed with forked tongue over the doomed village ! Its fate was 
sealed ! The old Dutch settlement was to be totally destroyed by 
the enemy. I say totally — yet there was one barn saved, in which a 
very pious old man had for many years, every day, sent up sincere, 
heart-breathed petitions to Him who watcheth above. 

And one house was left intact, where General Washington made 
his headquarters when in this vicinity. And the unroofed walls of 
the old stone mansion in which Rachel's grandfather lived, and 
which had the honor of being the first Senate House of the State of 
New York. This old house also became the residence of Major 
VanGaasbeck, a brother-in-law of our little heroine, and a member 
of the first Congress of the United States. His portrait, a beautiful 
painting on ivory, in powdered wng, ruffled linen at the bosom and 



2 2 I^Grcl)cl Du^o^f, 

wrists and "small clothes," is one of the interesting features of this 
quaint old building, which is still standing, the home of a grand- 
child of little Rachel. 

Pardon my little digressions, young friends. So many incidents 
crowd upon my heart and brain as I am chronicling this biography, 
which were told me in my childhood by my grandmother, the brave 
little maid of the Revolution, that it seems almost impossible not to 
turn aside from the laid-out path, once in a while, and pluck these 
little stray blossoms from the storehouse of memory. Remember, I 
am writing a true story, which I think will teach you many a lesson 
of bravery, unselfishness, endurance and fortitude. 




CHAPTER VL 



iHE sun had gone clown some time before the fire seemed 
Ife to be burnt out for want of material. Greedily it had cried, 



•'■ Jj ¥z 
^^ "more, more! "' until there was no more to give. Nothing 

but a desert of ashes remained where once the beautiful hamlet 

gladdened the eyes and hearts of its inhabitants. Oh, desolation of 

desolations! Verily, "its walls were laid even with the ground, and 

its children rose up and called it desolate ! " What a sunset was 

this ! The whole sky blazing with the lurid reflections, while all 

over the fallen village, impenetrable masses of thick, black smoke. 

God alone could sustain the fugitives, and truly He did. They lost 

neither faith nor courage, but quietly waited for the rift in the cloud. 

It was most morning before Rachel could be induced to take 

any rest. She had passed through so much on this eventful day that 

to sleep seemed hundreds of years away. Beside, she was on guard 

over her darling parents and younger children, and she knew not 

what might happen, as long as the British soldiers were not miles 

and miles off. No, Rachel could not sleep ! She must watch 

through the darkness until the day should dawn. 



24 ^ac^el ©uyior)! 

Telling the servants to be in readiness, should they be needed, 
this unselfish, self-sacrificing child, persuaded her parents, with the 
children, to retire for the night. After all was quiet, the little girl 
began to think over all that had happened during the day. She felt 
that some strange change had come over her own nature in the last 
few hours. She had become a woman in heart and mind. Yes, her 
childhood's days had been consumed by the same scorching flames 
that had interrupted and stopped all the games and festivities of her 
birthday />7^. Truly, Rachel had been baptized with fire ! And she 
had come forth freed from alloy. Yet, she was only a woman, and 
as such could not help clinging to the remembrance of many a 
household treasure buried beneath the ruins of her once happy 
home. Sincere tears flowed over her cheeks while thinking that she 
should see these endeared relics no more. And then the eyes of the 
woman-child went down to her feet to see if her silver buckles — her 
only ornaments — were safe. This was the first she had thought of 
them. And, alas ! one was gone ! It must have been washed away 
by the waters in that terrible crossing of the creek. Poor little 
Rachel, who had so bravely stood almost within the range of the 
enemy's guns without the slightest fear, and without shedding a tear, 
was now quite heart-broken over the loss of only a shoe-buckle. 
Do not think she was foolish, reader. They had been given to her 
by a dear playmate, a boy a few years her senior, as he bade her 
good-bye two years before, and marched ofl" to the music of the 
drum and fife to join the army fighting for his country. Tears had 
been in the lad's eyes as he placed these souvenirs in the little maid's 



Jl J^rei^G bifile (iirl of fl)c I^e^elutioi^. 2 5 

hands, and very tremulous was the voice that said: "Good-bye, 
Rachel ! keep these until I come back to you, and wear them for 
my sake."' With both his hands clasping the one the young girl 
outstretched to him, the children stood perfectly quiet, with only 
Heaven to witness the parting. Yet each felt the choking-sensation 
that would not permit the expressing in words the thoughts welling- 
up in either breast. They were too much in awe to kiss each other, 
yet a certain something passed from heart to heart, and flashed from 
eye to eye, revealing that their destinies were forever inseparable. 

And now, that one link entrusted to her care was missing, this 
was too much for our little " Lieutenant General "' to endure without 
the relief of tears. But I must give her the credit of not long giving 
way to what she thought a selfish wrong at such a time, and heroi- 
cally drying her eyes, she placed the remaining buckle next her 
heart, where she would wear it until the dear one came. Not a very 
romantic keep-sake, my youthful fiiend : still remember it was not 
quite as easy one hundred years ago to give rings, and locked brace- 
lets, as pledges of love. And the silver buckles, which had been 
the boy's grandfather's in his English home, were the most precious 
of treasures to the country lad. And just because they were so 
dearly cherished did he give them to the little girl he loved. To tell 
the truth, Rachel in so quickly wiping away her tears, had felt that 
she would in some vray soon again obtain possession of the little 
piece of her heart lost that day. Her sensitiveness to impressions 
was very great, and she had often shocked the good old Holland- 
Dutch by saying so and so would happen — she felt it in the air. 



26 l^eic^el Duff)©!)!, • 

It was her P'rench blood, the Httle maiden said, which made her feel 
things before the more stolid Dutch. And she seemed so earnest in 
her beliefs that no one had the heart to contradict her, although they 
could not understand the child's moods. She was their darling and 
they trusted her. The morning had dawned before Rachel would 
give slumber to her eye-lids or sleep to her eyes. Then lying on a 
rude *'bunk,"' a clumsy wooden sofa-bedstead, without pillow or 
blanket, she fell asleep. 

It was nearly noon before she awoke, with the happiest smile 
on her face, and some great joy quivering on her lips — the impres- 
sions and recollections of a dream, too good to tell — of her absent 
playmate and absent shoe-buckle. All the little girl would disclose 
was that she had seen the silver-buckle, as in her dream she was 
crossing the creek with the dear friend who had given them to her, 
and who seemed to be a tall man in the dress of an officer in the 
American army. Rachel's happiness cheered all the family. And 
with the light of another day, they took a new view^ of the calamity 
which had come to them. Their lives had been spared, and they 
had found a place of refuge, where they could stay, until they might 
erect some sort of log-hut for the winter months. And best of all, 
the "Britishers" had evacuated the town. This news had come to 
them early in the day, so their hearts could be at rest about new- 
depredations near them. 

The red coats had learned that a portion of ihe American army 
under General George Clinton, — afterwards Governor of the State of 
New York for twenty-ojie years, — was marching to the relief of 



^ jBret^c hinlc Girl of fl)c I^e^olufioi^. 27 

the terrified inhabitants, and very prudently had hastened away after 
making sure to capture and burn all provisions. They did not 
pursue the fleeing villagers, but speedily traveled oft" with their spoils. 

When Rachel learned that the British had fled, she insisted 
upon immediately going to see about the animals she had left; in the 
corn-field. But her parents were so fearful some red-coat might be 
prowling about still, to quiet their fears, reluctantly she waited. 
The ruins were yet smoking and burning and none of the fugitives 
dared to go back, until it was certain that the enemy had departed 
— every man. Do not think they were cowards, young readers : 
They were without weapons or any means of defense, — these old and 
sick men and women and young children ; and to be taken prisoner 
was too dreadful to think of. So they waited until our own soldiers 
had come to their relief a few days later. In this battalion, sent too 
late to save the beautiful hamlet, were the fathers, husbands, brothers 
and sons of the burnt homes, and touching beyond words were the 
meetings of the separated families. Language cannot portray these 
scenes. Your hearts alone, dear readers, can paint them. When 
the armv arrived in sisrht of these blackened ruins, the oftlcer in 
command gave the order to these husbands, sons, fathers and 
brothers to go forth and seek their loved ones. 

The brave lad, Rachel's playmate, who had grown a tall youth 
of eighteen — Tjerck Beekman, was his name — and had risen to the 
dignity of a Lieutenant's epaulettes, quickly found the whereabouts 
of the vounof maid of his dreams. 




CHAPTER Vn. 




mACHEL was standing on the borders of the creek which 
separated her from her childhood's home, watching the still 
burning ruins and listening to the drum and fife in the 
distance, which intuitively she knew to be the notes that relief — joy 
had come. Clasping her hands over her heart, which wildly 
throbbed with all she felt in the air, she saw approaching a young 
officer in American uniform. Tall and graceful, his sword sheathed 
at his side, he was leaping from rock to rock, with all the intrepidity 
with which a true man conquers ''the lions in his path/" or sur- 
mounts the obstacles which intervene between him and his loved 
one. As he neared the spot where the young girl stood, still robed 
in her country's colors, he felt that it was indeed Rachel. The 
blood mounted to his brow, in si)ite of his soldier-clothes, and the 
brave officer's heart gave some very portentous leaps toward his 
mouth, as he now, rather tremblingly, drew close to the shore. 

And our little "Lieutenant-General ! "' She saw and conquered 
her unruly heart ! For was she not more than a soldier, even a 
Lieutenant? \^'as she not a true woman .^ 



With apparent sang f raid, although with burning cheeks and 
beaming eyes, she issued her orders : "Be careful ! Look well before 
you leap ! Salute your — General ! '" — which last command was not 
obeyed in strictly orthodox military fashion. An old croaking turtle 
on the rock told Rachel's mother— although Rachel never entered 
any complaint of insubordination. As there were no eye-witnesses 
to the meeting save the old turtle-croaker, and he quickly drew his 
head within his shell, I will have to skip what I confess is just the 
most interesting part of the story to me — an old married woman. 
But, as my grandmother — little Rachel — always left a sort of blank 
page at this terminus of the "jumping and leaping,"' I never knew 
exactly how much of a leap was the last one of the young soldier. 
Any way I think it was made safely at the feet of little Rachel, who, 
I can say this much, warmly welcomed her old playmate from the 
depths of the heart, fortified by the mailed armor of a huge silver 
shoe-buckle, which you know, young friends, could not be very 
invincible. 

Turning their steps toward the old farm-house, where the 
family of Rachel were sheltered, the youthful lovers, (can I use the 
word in its holiest sense .^) with hearts too full to talk, quietly side 
by side, wafted as sweet incense toward Heaven, their overflowing 
gratitude and love. This was their unconscious betrothal, too pure 
and sacred for us to linger upon, although so many years have 
passed since Heaven sanctioned this silent plighted troth. 



CHAPTKR VIII, 



^EFORE the old-fashioned porcli of the farm-house was reached 
Rachel told her friend of the missing shoe-buckle, and of her 
grief, and then of the impression that she would find it, but 
nothing did the little girl say of her happy dream. That was hers 
alone still. Not yet could she divulge this secret, even to her returned 
chcr ami. The young officer's e}cs sparkled with an amused ex])res- 
sion, as Rachel, with artless na'ivcle, si)oke of her great loss, and 
then so cjuickly "knew she would fmd it." 'J jerck well remembered 
tliis hopeful, joyous, bright side of the child's character, and with 
pleasure found that the }'ears had left her with all her childhood's 
faith and trust. 

By this time they had reached the place of refuge of the family of 
the little girl, whom for so long the }-oung soldier had fondly watched 
over and cherished. Time had only strengthened this boyish love, 
and Rachel was the bright, particular star that influenced all his des- 
tin\'. Her presence had been with him through all the trying, se\ere 
experiences of the last two years, and nothing could sever — no, not 
even death — the firm cable-link closely binding the woman-child's 



<Jl jSrctv'e liillle Girl o[ ll)c I^c\?o]uIi6r). 3 I 

heart to his own. And now, as she led him before her suri)rised 
mother and flither, with parents' hearts, they felt at once this bond 
of union. With a son's tenderness, Tjerck greeted them and the 
little ones. Truth compels me to add that these children almost 
demolished the worn uniform of their soldier-friend. The sword and 
epaulettes had peculiar attractions for the little boy, the " Benjamin '' 
of the household, and very proudly did he strut over the wide old 
l)orch, with the sword, in its scabbard, dangling at his side. He 
was a true hero, in miniature, that would "defend mother and 
father and sister, right before the enemy's guns, ivZ/cn they were 
fired off ! " 

After spending some few minutes in talking of the terrible niisfor- 
tune, and finding out the exact situation of these exiles, the young 
Lieutenant proposed going to the old house to see if any thing was 
left. 

Rachel, who had been so longing to go to her pets for many 
days, insisted upon accompanying him. (iladly would her old 
playmate have spared her the sight of her beloved home lying in 
ashes, but the brave girl told him that she had promised these dear 
friends to come as soon as she could, and she knew they must be in 
despair at her delay, if they were still alive. So she overcame the 
scruples and objections of the young man and her cautious parents, 
and made ready for the expedition. Telling Pompey to bring one 
of the horses which was accustomed to fording the creek for [lieu- 
tenant Beekman to mount, she retired to make some few preparations 
for her journey. 



CHAPTER IX. 




,^HEN Rachel returned, being absent only a few minutes, 
she had draped a scarlet cloth cloak belonging to her 
L""=^S^J mother about her slight form, in lieu of a ridinr-habit, 
and most picturesque was the costume. With whatever this little 
maid robed herself there was always a grace and a charm very 
unusual in one so young. This scarlet cloak is in a pretty well 
preserved state, the inherited legacy of one of little Rachel's great 
frrandchildren. Plndino^ her escort with the favorite familv-horse in 
readiness, unassisted she sprang on the pillion of the saddle, with 
all the nonchalance of a "Child of the Regiment," followed quickly 
by the young Lieutenant, who took his place directly in front of 
her. This fashion of riding was an old custom, considered perfectly au 
fait a hundred years ago. Pompey was not exactly pleased to see his 
young "missy" going away in the company of a handsome young 
soldier, and rolled his eyes from one to another as if trying to gauge 
the situation. He had refrained from speaking, but now when 
Rachel had vaulted so lightly on the back of the horse, he could 
stand it no longer. Looking very grave, and showing all the whites 



^ liraiPc Isifflc Girl of fl)e I^c-sPolutfor). 33 

of his eyes, he said : "Missy Rachel, let Pompey go wid de young 
gemmen ! Little Missy can't do nuffin in war times ! Me and de 
hofficer '11 tend to ebery ting, and be company for each oder too. 
Yer'U be arful lonely widout yer Mar an Par, missy ! an sojers isn' 
'cussomed to young ladies ! Dis one can't take no car ob yer. Now 
jes lissen to Pompey, and jump right off dat boss's back, an' go on 
de piazzer wid yer mudder and fadder. Pompey is de boy wot '11 
fix dem red fellers. He isn' feard " — 

Just then the American army were firing a gun to tell the hour 
of noon, and Pompey took to his heels for the house, exclaiming, 
" Lordy Massy ; dem Britishers am comin agin ! — Good Mr. Lordie, 
spare dis poor family, an' de niggers, too ; ole Grannie, se's ole an' 
sick, an' wan's to die, so takes hur fust, if yer mus hab some un. 
An Dad he can go wid her fer comp'ny. Pompey has too many 
wimmen and chillens to take car ob ; he can' be spard jes yet ! '' 

In vain did Rachel and Lieutenant Beekman call to the 
frightened boy, and tell him it was not the Britishers, only their 
friends firing to let them know that they were near. Pompey 
was too scared to stop, until he had hidden from the red-coats in 
the potato-barrel in the large dark cellar of the old farm-house. 
There Uncle Ned found him half an hour later, when getting the 
potatoes for the mid-day meal. 

" Lors-a-massy, wot's yer doin in dis tater bar'l ? Has yer been 
bout suffin arful wicked agin, an feard de gud Lor '11 cotch yer.'' 
Cum out, yer nigger, an don spile all dem new taters," said the 
pious father. 



34 I^acl)Gl 9u^or)L 

"Oh, daddie, I done thort dem red-coals was cumin", an' I'se so 
feard dey take yer an" ole Grannie dat I come in de cella" to fire at 
dem trough de trap door. Am dey come ? "' responded the valiant 

son. 

" NOj no, chile I No Britishers '11 come now ! Didn' yer see de 
young Ginral wot's come fo' de little missy .-* - He's de brave sojer 
wot will take car' ob us ! Come out de bar'l, chile ! De good Lor' 
'11 take car" ob poo' ole Daddy and Grannie ! Yer's a brave boy, 
Pompey, to 'fend yer 'lations, and s'all hab" a big piece of watermelion 
for yer dinner for not forgettin' de ole folks. Some niggers jes' like 
some white folks, and jes' looks out for dem own se'fs. But yer, 
Pomi)ey, is a waryc)\ an' no mistake ! Come, chile, an" kiss yer ole 
Grannie ! "" with much subdued feeling, were the jerky ejaculations of 
the proud parent. 



sL'^^f 




CHAPTER X. 



^H'HE young Lieutenant, and still younger, " Lieutenant- 



fb 



% General," were now midway over the creek. The faithful 
'^^ white horse, "Old Bill," his sobriquet, seemed to feel 
highly honored in being chosen for this important mission. 
Very cautiously did he feel of every stone before leaping with his 
precious burden. And though slowly the fording was accom- 
plished, it did not inconvenience the gallant horseman and fair com- 
panion, because — well, they had a great deal to talk about and think 
about; and if "Old Bill" were slow, he was so sure-footed and 
knew so well what he was doing, and who were on his back. His 
riders trusted him, and he felt it. Certainly, if sound can travel 
over wire, so is there some sort of magnetism or mesmerism, im- 
parted through the reins, by which one handles and controls the 
horse. Animals, particularly horses, are very sensitive to this mag- 
netic whatever ifmay be called. (Time will bring this truth 

to the surface). Rachel clung firmly to her pillion and ignored any 
other help. She resolved when she started not to be an incum- 
brance, but a helper. And resolutely did our young heroine keep 



36 I^acl)cl ]3ug^or)t 

her resolution. When at the spot from whence the little girl had 
made the perilous leap of a few days b?fore, Lieutenant Beekman 
espied something very shining in the clear water, nestling among 
the stones in the bed of the creek. The sun, which was high in the 
heavens, caused the little gem to emit flash after flash from the sur- 
face, dazzling the eyes of the young girl and the soldier. In an in- 
stant Tjerck sprang from the horse and plunged in the creek. So 
quickly had this been done, that Rachel, frightened lest some acci- 
dent had happened to her comrade, turned very pale, and would 
have fallen, in spite of all her resolutions, had not the young soldier 
swiftly emerged from his impromptu bath with the precious jewel 
still fiashino- in lustrous brilliance, like a cluster of diamonds. 
More precious than the costliest of stones, was this found shoe- 
buckle to the young man and maiden. Wiih the gallantry of the 
most chivalrous of knights did the youthful soldier now kneel on a 
rock and fasten it on the slipper or pump of the little maid. While 
doing this he made a wish that this pledge, rescued from the 
"waters of trouble, *" might prove a true talisman against all that 
could harm his beloved. And Rachel, with all her old cognizance 
of what was going on in the atmosphere about her, felt her dear 
playmate's wish to protect her, and thanked him with her eyes, al- 
though her lips were too tremulous to speak. 

"Now, where is the other one, Rachel.^ Have you it with 
you ? Give it to me, that the pair ma}- be united once more. 
Truly, dear, these buckles seem to be in perfect sympathy with our 
own fates. They shall be the augurs of our friendship and love,'' 



a/i MrerVe liiftle (sTirl of tr)G I^evolufior), 37 

in a low clear voice spoke the young officer. " Where is the other 
one, little girl? "' Rachel, who did not want this tall "grown-up '' 
gentleman to know that she was wearing a shoe-buckle next her heart, 
replied : "You must wait until we go back to the farm-house. I 
cannot give it to you now. We must hurry to my old pets. My 
poor dove-eye cows will thmk their little mistress has deserted them 
for good ; and the dear little chickens miss me, too ; I know they 
do. And the chubby white pigs. Oh, how T want to see them alL 
all! Come, vion ami.'' 

Tjerck, jumping on Old Bill's back, while this little ruse-de- 
guerre was transpiring, the trio were soon rapidly gaining the 
Kingston shore. The young officer was glad it was about dinner 
time at the camp, as the soldiers would be engaged with their meal, 
and he could thus protect the little maid from their questioning eyes 
and manners. As soon as they reached the land they left the old 
horse on some nice grass near the water, and hastened to the corn- 
field with the rich pasture adjoining. 

And now, what are these strange noises which greet their ears ? 
Surely they do not come from what are called human throats: 
Neither from the lips of the "brute creation." They are the re- 
joicing cries of long-despairing, pent-up souls suddenly relieved 
from agony. Yes, from the mouths and hearts of cows, chickens, 
and even pigs come these unmistakable notes of joy. The animals 
had caught sight of their young mistress coming to them as she had 
promised. Long had they watched and waited: And now their 
delight knew no bounds. Running to meet her, the whole flock so 



38 



]^Grci)cl DulTlor)!. 



completely surrounded the little girl that the soldier was alarmed for 
her safety. Rachel assured her friend they would not harm her, 
and she would quiet them soon. For some minutes did the cows 
rub their faces against her habit, looking with their eyes as only 
cows can ; the chickens chirping and hopping about her, bobbing 
their funny little heads from one side to the other, as they peeped 
with their wee eyes to be sure it was Rachel ; and the old mother 
pig, with her family of nine, each doing its share of joyous grunt- 
ing and poking at Rachel's feet. A happy reunited family, with 
merry carnival celebrating the hour which restored to them their 
loved one. Who shall dare to say that such animals have no 
souls ? ^^o?is verrojis. 




CHAPTER XL 






Y^^^OON were these pets subdued to quietness and all still clusterincr 
fSil about their faithful friend, they lay down as their token, or 
'•^^ ''flag of truce", that the noisy demonstrations were at an end. 
Now the young pair proceded to M-here the old home once had 
swung its inviting open-doors. Oh, the blackened mass which met 
their eyes ! The tender-hearted youth tried to turn Rachel from the 
shocking sight, but our brave little woman, only for an instant, 
averted her head. Then taking her comrade's proffered hand, they 
approached the still smoking mass of ruins. One object they saw 
as they drew close, which made them think some soldiers must be 
near. This was a large black kettle, swinging on an iron chain 
over the old fire-place, which was ail that was left of the dear home. 
Rachel recognized this black utensil as the one in which Isabel was 
making the suppawn (hasty pudding) for the birthday /c/e, Mhen 
they were so rudely startled by the enemy. Yes, there was the 
Indian-corn, browned to perfection, waiting for the guests ; — and 
where were they ? 

The sight of the old kettle, which had been used by Rachel's 
mother ever since the little girl could remember, brought the relief 



40 I^acl)£l E)uI?)or,i. 

of tears to the eyes of the homesick child. Passionately, without 
shame, did she convulsively cry, sobbing as in her early childhood 
when something had gone wrong. Her friend did not try to stop 
the flood of tears, as he knew she could not be calm without this — 
nature's remedy. The young man busied himself in disengaging 
the crane with the iron kettle attached, which -liad been hung over 
this family-hearth at the marriage of Racheks mother and father. 
One of the feet of the iron pot had succumbed to the flames which 
had so fiercely pelted upon it, and the kettle, minus one foot, is 
extant to this day, occupying an honored niche in the heart and 
household of the writer of this story — a grandchild of little Rachel. 

The young girl had cried herself to sleep, as she sat on some 
of the charred timbers encircling the burnt fire-place, with her head 
pillowed on her arm as was her wont in early childhood. All this 
week of suffering had vanished, and Rachel once more was the little 
mistress, the pet of the household, sitting by her mother's side as 
she was reclining in her invalid's chair One glance at the young 
maid's face, with the happy child-smile playing about her lips, told her 
friend that nature had truly soothed and comforted the weeping girl. 
She must not be disturbed. He knew she would soon awake, so 
he remained perfectly quiet. 

The constant watching and excitement of the week, with not 
much proper food, had pressed very heavily upon the nerves of the 
little woman so young in years. And now the exhaustion consequent 
upon her convulsive weeping, had brought the best boon — '"tired 
nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep." 



J\ j^rer-y© Jjilflc (s^irl of Ir)C I^cvclutior). 4 1 

Rachel did not awake quite as soon as her comrade and friend 
thought. Yet very patiently he occupied the post of sentinel until 
she should open her eyes. He feared to look at her steadily, lest 
that might disturb her rest, and only furtively, once in a while, did 
he allow his eyes to glance at the sleeping maid. And, indeed, the 
young man was rapt in reverie. Much had passed through his mind 
and heart since he had learned that the British army had marched 
toward Kingston. And the last few hours had been burnt on his 
heart and brain never to be effaced. While in this deep meditation 
he was aroused by the voice of Rachel, murmuring in a low tone : 
" How bright ! How beautiful ! That scarlet uniform I have seen 
before in some strange land ! Or am I dreaming } No, these are 
soldiers ! British soldiers ! Oh, they are coming, they are coming 
' to burn our home 1 They are most there now ! Where am I .? In 
the water.? I ^^z/s-/ jump ! My mother! My father!" and with 
one quick start, Rachel awoke. For an instant she could not un- 
derstand, as with a dazed look she fixed her eyes on the blackened 
ruins. And then as they met the loving, anxious look of her old 
playmate, everything flashed to her mind. Now she knew. She 
had been asleep and dreaming of that dreadful day. The earnest 
eyes of the young soldier had touched the lost chord of memory, 
and Rachel was the brave little woman again, planning and directing 

for her dear ones. 

" Forgive me, Tjerck, for having detained you, when your time 
is so precious. How could I have slept amid all this desolation .? 
Gad must have given me the rest I so much needed. Yet, not to- 



42 ]^acl)Gl ©U^l0I)l, 

day, the first of your return, would I have been so selfish. But I 
feel strong now. You must not longer wait for me. Do you have to 
return to your command soon ? I hope I have not been the cause 
of your getting in trouble for delinquency. Tell me how it is," 
quickly spoke Rachel. 

''Well, my little fast talker, you are having things all your own 
way now. Yet I will interrupt your pleasant voice just long enough 
to S2Lyj'ou never give me any trouble. Every moment spent v;ith 
you brings naught but happiness. So rest your mind in peace, I 
am truly glad you have had the refreshing sleep. I could not have 
desired a greater blessing for you to-day, my little girl. And now I 
will take you back to your mother before I report at headquarters, 
and then I will see you later in the day, so that we may talk over 
what is best to be done. Come, Rachel,'' responded the young 
soldier. 

"Now my old playmate, just listen to me; girls know so much 
better than boys how things should be managed, even in war-times. 
Leave me here ; you go and report to your colonel ; I will wait for 
you until you return. I want to look about these dear old 
walls for a while longer, and also to talk to and comfort 
my pets, the animals, a little more. Do not look so disap- 
provingly, God will take care of me ! Now please go ! 
That's a good boy ! Grant this request and I will not soon 
again ask to be left in such a place. The Britishers are far, 
far away, and all your own soldiers are now in camp at dinner, so I 
shall not be disturbed. It is so quiet and peaceful here, even in the 



%n. \i)v<s.^z liimc (a^irl of ir)G. l^cvoliifior). 43 

midst of these ruins. I feel that our Heavenly Father is now very 
near to us ! His arm is strong to protect. Go, Tjerck ! Obey me ! 
I am your little Lieutenant-General ! " uttered the low, sweet voice 
of the young girl. 

The soldier-youth could not resist the pleading tones and confi- 
dent words of the brave maid. Her faith ever infused in his mind 
the same trust. He too felt the nearness of the Most High o'ershad- 
owing this lonely spot, and encircling the fearless child with the 
bright cloud of His presence. 

"Be it as you say, dear; I will soon come to you," musingly 
answered the soldier. And with only a military salute his true eyes 
rested on those of Rachel for an instant, and he was rapidly walking 
toward the camp. 

Rachel watched him until out of sight, and then looked among 
the charred ashes for some token of her old loved home besides the 
iron kettle. None greeted her wistful eyes, and giving up the 
search, she sat down by the old family-hearth, — hoping to feel some 
of the comfort that must cling to it still. But oh, it was not the 
dear old fire-place without her beloved parents and the children. 
And even the little colored toddlings hanging about with the grown 
servants going out and in, she missed more than she could express. 
And poor old Dinah laid up with the rheumatism, and Caesar, grown 
gray and old in the service of the family; and pious Uncle Ned, and 
even mischievous, wicked Pompey. How her heart yearned over 
them all. No place could feel like home where these were not. 
Where her loved ones were, even the wilds of the desert would be 
"sweet, sweet home." 



44 ]^eicl)cl ©u^or.t, 

She could no longer tarry here. She would go to her friends 
in the corn-field and pasture-lot. They would comfort her now. 
And yes, she heard them calling to her in the language she so well 
understood. " I am coming ! lam coming! dear old darlings," 
answered Rachel. "God has spared you for me, if the old stone 
walls have fallen ; we can build another home, with our strong 
arms and hands, and again together our happy family shall be, ani- 
mals and all. You do not forget your little mistress, do you ? " 
ejaculated the young girl, as she hastened to where the cows were 
looking toward her. All her flock seemed to know she was coming : 
indeed, they had scarcely taken their eyes from the path she had 
taken when she had left them a little while before, apparently know- 
ing she would not be long away. Now chickens, large and small, 
mother pig and nine wee piglings, as well as the dove-eyed cows, 
were on the quivive for the return of their loved one. 

Hastening to these intelligent, loyal brutes, (?) the young girl 
resolved, just for this once, she would be a child as of yore, and have 
a good romp with her old darlings. Throwing herself on the grass 
beside the cows, they rubbed her with their heads, while with her 
arms clasped around the neck of each in turn, she talked with their 
speaking eyes. And the chickens hopped on her head and shoulders 
and pecked at her cheeks and hands, keeping up an incessant 
clatter. One old rooster deliberately jumped on the head of Rachel, 
flapped his wings, and stretching his neck to its utmost length, gave 
a tremendous crow, ''cock-a-doo-dle-do ! " This unheard-of pro- 
ceeding made the child laugh heartily, but the sad-eyed cows looked 



aghast at the free-and-easy bird. The hens, too, seemed to be 
frightened at their Hege lord's lack of respect for their mistress, 
and woman-hke tried to cover-up the breach of decorum, by 
cHcking their bills very rapidly, thus engaging the attention of the 
little lady. The baby-chicklings evidently thought it a most won- 
drous performance, as they intently watched the proud self-satisfied 
rooster — "lord of creation. '"' 

On the grass, with all these funny-acting pets clamoring about 
her, was our heroine, when the tall soldier returned, Springing 
to her feet, Rachel exclaimed : "Why, you have not come so soon ; 
I do believe you have run every step of the way. And you have 
not had one morsel of dinner, I know. I did not dream, you could 
have yet reached your camp. You must be very tired, Tjerck ; 
come sit down by me and rest. " 

The youth did not see much of a place to sit down, save on 
the outer edge of this family group, with all the animals between 
him and his beloved. So he nonchalantly replied : "Now tell the 
truth, Rachel, have you missed me at all ? These — what shall I 
call them ? are so absorbing all your attention that there does not 
seem to be any room for me outside or inside your heart, and I do 
not choose to be banished so far away." 

"Oh, you old jealousy ! The same boy that you ever were," 
returned the maid. "Do you really think, Tjerck, that I could let 
any one, even this dear beautiful cow, take j'otir place ^ No, no ! 
Fou arefirsf, now and forever — among my p/aymafes," — archly con- 
tinued the little lady. "And now come right here by my side, 



46 ]^acl)Gl Du^oi)f, 

until I shall take that dismal crinkle out of your forehead. You 
are not handsome, my dear boy, ^Yhen you are jealous. Run away, 
old mother-pig, and put your babies to sleep. And dear old cows, 
go lie down for a while under the trees. Somebody has come that 
does not love you as I do — and don't you tell — that I like very, 
very, very much. 

"And you, proud strutting chicken, go on the fence and give 
one more 'cock-a-doodle-doo' just fo-r auld langsyne's sake. Take 
your wives and children with you. Away, away all of you for a 
while. Come, Tjerck, they will not interfere with you now ; they 
understand every word I say to them. Come and rest just for a few 
minutes on this soft grass. And here is a nice drink of cool water : 
the cup I have made expressly for you : it will refresh you, I 
know." 

Stepping to Rachel's side, from whence all the animals had 
stood aside, the young officer took from her hand the cup, made of 
maple leaves, and raising it to his lips, quickly drained the cooling 
chalice. " A sweeter draught was never quaffed, maiden fair," re- 
sponded the soldier, with a low bow. " And now I will give myself 
just five minutes to enjoy that soft, sweet grass, and then, little 
' General,' we must be on the march to report at your head- 
quarters. I fear, even now, your parents are alarmed for the safety 
of their little daughter who is absent, although in the charge of an 
American officer. Well, well, I cannot blame them. This pearl of 
pearls, most precious of jewels, "' soliloquized the youth, as though 
no one were near, ''she must be cherished and guarded at all 
hazards." 



Ji Jiret^e ISiiiU Q'lA of fl)G l^e^olulior). 47 

''Tjerck, Tjerck ; you are just spoiling your old friend. Why, 
she is your helpmate now as well as playmate. This is war time, 
and we are soldiers ; /as well as you. Don't you know I am not a 
timid little girl ? Well, as long as I have a brave soldier boy at my 
side. And I am changed, Tjerck. The last week has showed me 
that women are good for something beside being taken care of. Oh, 
it would have done your heart good could you have seen how nobly 
many of our villagers acted that terrible day. I could take care of 
you, Tjerck, if you needed for care, and men do, sometimes, as well 
as women, don't they.? Now confess, my friend, wouldn't you be a 
little afraid to live in this world if there were no women, and even 
no little girls ? They keep you from being homesick, don't they ? 
And doesn't homesickness take all the heart out of anyone ? What 
are you thinking about.? I guess you are homesick now. You 
look so sober. And your five minutes have flown. Your repeater 
struck some time ago, but you were so taken up with something you 
did not notice it. Are you m or ou/ of the body, Tjerck ? " queried 
Rachel. 

Rising from the grass, Lieutenant Beekman took Rachel by the 
hand and assisted her over the rude log-fence of the pasture-lot. 
The young girl had truly spoken : A helpmate in so many senses 
of the word. As playmate she had been very dear, but the new pet- 
name pleased him more than he could tell. " Yes, little girl, you 
help 7?ie to live. Homesick ! Desolate ! Afraid ! Yes, afraid 
would I be to live withoutj.'^^^, Rachel. But ivithyou Sahara would 
be a paradise. These last few days have brought to the surface or 



48 ]^acl)el ©uI¥)or)f, 

developed the rich, unfailing, inexhaustible mine of comfort— your 
brave, loving, womanly heart. God help me to be equally strong 
and true. To love, cherish and protect Rachel. I ask for no 
greater happiness. With all her heroism, she is still a woman, to 
defend. And I promise. " 

" Tjerck, you musn't be so solemn. This'is our holiday : Let 
us be gay ! " vivaciously interlocuted the little French girl. "We 
will laugh, and sing, and dance, and make merry, because every- 
thing will come, out right. I know it will. I feel it in the air, 
don't you, Tjerck ? Yes you do. Your eyes say so ; so let us take 
one run down this hill and see who will reach Old Bill's back the 
first. Poor old horse ! he must be quite out of patience waiting 
for us. One, two, three ; I am off, jNIr, Lieutenant," called Rachel, 
as she fairly flew down the bank, "catch me if you can.'' 

The grave face of the young soldier quickly changed as he ac- 
c«pted the bantering challenge of the young girl. He too, fleetly 
sped o'er the ground, but Rachel had sprung to the saddle before 
her companion could " catch her." She was in the best of spirits, 
although the blackened ashes of her home were in sight. Hadn't 
she still her mother and father, sisters and brother, and even her dear 
" playmate.' " Why shouldn't she be gay, and laugh, and play.? 

Vaulting lightly on the back of the faithful horse. Lieutenant 
Beekman, with this brave little maid, were soon fording the creek. 
The water had receded since morning, so the trip, thanks to Old 
Bill's surc-footedness, was soon accomplished. Pompey was on 
the edge of the creek waiting for them, much subdued since the 



(J\ Ja»rGrve iiiiiie (s^irl of fr)c r^evol-uiior). 49 

fright of the morning. The tribute to his valor — the huge piece of 
watermelon — had been generously bestowed upon him as promised. 
Yet his eyes did glare uneasily at the handsome young soldier so 
gallantly escorting the little "missy." Evidently Pompey did not 
enjoy or appreciate their military guest. He really had a mortal 
fear of soldiers, enemies or friends, not much difference. He 
seemed to think that swords and guns were rather suspicious, to say 
the least, and he felt safer in the potato barrel in the dark cellar than 
in the proximity of such uncanny things as these weapons. And he 
did turn pale, ashy gray, as the officer, with his sword at his belt, 
sprang from the horse and assisted Rachel to dismount, who allowed 
herself to be lifted from the saddle. 

"What is the matter, Pompey.^ Has anything happened to 
mother or father, or the children .? Why do you act so strangely } '"' 
quickly asked the young girl. 

"Well, yer see, INIissy Rachel, I'se ben worrit 'bout yer all day. 
Yer's not "cussomed to sojers, an' I done thort some dem guns an' 
swords might go off. Berry dangus tings, dem am, missy. Don 
yer tink de young massa had better go back to his army now ? It 
might scare yer mudder an' fadder to sees him so much 'roun'. I'll 
tells him dat Pompey can take care ob de wimmen an' chillen, an' he 
can go shoot de Britishers. Sail I, missy .^ " retorted the negro lad. 

"Pompey, do not talk so ridicuously. Lieutenant Beekman 
is our best friend, and has come to help us. My mother and father 
love him very much, and you know they have only little Johnnie, — 



50 ^GTcJ^el ©u^o^f, 

07ie hoy. Now, for my sake, do all you can to make this soldier 
comfortable," in a low tone spoke Rachel. 

'' Well," said Pompey, "jus as yer done say, missy. Pompey 
don' mind hissef, ony de little missy. I isn' feared ob sojers an 
guns, an' all dat sort ob ting ; but wimmen folks an' chillen is 
divrent, dey might be scared. But jus as yer' say, missy, Pompey 
isn' feard. '' 

During this little aside conversation between the young lady 
and the ruffled negro, Tjerck noticing that something was wrong, 
had delicately withdrawn a few steps, although not out of sight of the 
reproachful eyes of the ' ' worrit " boy. At the close of the confi- 
dential talk he rejoined Rachel, and releasing ''Old Bill" from 
longer carrying them, side by side once more they sauntered o'er the 
grass-skirted road. Their hearts were too full for lightly talking 
now. They were happy, although their country was in the midst of 
a long war for bare existence, and the young girl houseless and 
homeless. They had each other. This was more than content. 
They felt that the dear Father had given them the greatest of bless- 
ings. Why then, or how should they repine ? 

Hand in hand, as was their wont before this cruel war, did 
they present themselves before the sick parents. Neither was there 
now much need for words. Both mother and father knew that the 
children had come for their blessing, and each parental heart went 
forth to greet them. Still hand linked in hand they drew close to 
the loving parents, and with bowed heads, knelt before them. 
Beautiful, although solemn, was this sacred scene. The hands of 



mother and father on each lowly-bent head, as with uplifted eyes, 
silently, beseechingly they plead for Heaven's smile to sanction the 
betrothal of their darling child. The war was forgotten. That their 
home had been destroyed and that they were wanderers on the face 
of the earth, entered not either heart at this hallowed hour. Too 
pre-absorbed were they for the life-happiness of their first-born idol 
to let aught but their c/^zZ^ usurp this "holy of holies." The sun, 
which had been for a few moments under a cloud, now sent a bright 
ray of sunshine over the still kneeling youthful forms. It did seem, 
as though Heaven was smiling. So the parents accepted the bright 
omen, and both Rachel and Tjerck felt the halo that rested upon 
them. 




CHAPTER XII. 



UST then Isabel entered the room with a tray of dinner for the 

young soldier and the little missy. Only her favorite dish of 

^ pudding and milk, yet it was served with true hospitality. 

The young officer had not broken his fast since morning, and ate 

with a relish. Never had he enjoyed such a delicious repast, he said 

to the smiling Isabel. 

Rachel could not equally do justice to the meal, although 
Isabel protested that she must be "done starved." ''Eat, honey ; 
it'll do yer good," coaxed the loving old servant. "An' no bekfus 
did de chile hab, eider. Oh, dis am offul war. How's my ole 
brin'el, darlin" ? Did yer see 'em ? Was dem all live ? Chick, 
pigs, hens, a /I P 

"Yes, my good Isabel, they are all alive, and as fat as 

well, as fat as you, Isabel ; and they want to see you, I know. I 
read that in their eyes. We must soon go back to the old place,'" 
the young girl said, as if thinking aloud. 

In this last sentence Rachel had unwittingly struck the key-note 
of what Tjerck wanted to say. Hastily taking up the words, he 



said : "Yes, and our soldiers shall build you a house. It will not 
take them long to erect a comfortable home out of the logs near at 
hand, To-morrow they will commence this work, and soon you 
will be under your own roof. The servants can help them, and can 
gather the remaining harvest also. Gen. Clinton told me this morn- 
ing that he and his command would do all in their power to make 
homes for the inhabitants of the unfortunate village. And since 
they will stay here three weeks at least, much can be done. Our 
men w^ork like troopers when their heart is in their work, and they 
are in earnest for the poor sufferers of Kingston. You, Rachel, I 
wish to stay at this farm-house with your parents and the children, 

until Captain , my friend, shall come for you. Promise me 

this, dear." 

Rachel was so truly in the mist of sweet happiness that was 
hovering about her, that she scarcely comprehended this new order 
of things. Not until Tjerck addressed himself immediately to her, 
did she emerge from this pleasant hiding-place. Then, fearing 
from the manner in which her old playmate spoke, that he was not 
to remain, she quickly exclaimed : "You will not leave us, Tjerck ; 
I cannot let you go. '' 

"Yes, Rachel, you will, when I tell you that even now I have 
my orders to join General Washington, who is on the march for 
Valley Forge. Would that I could stay with you, darling. Yet 
God will protect you, Rachel." 

Isabel, with Caesar, who had stolen unperceived in the room, 
upon hearing that the soldiers would build them a house, with their 



54 I^eccl)cl Duff)or)f. 

warm African blood, sang or intoned: " Bress de Lor'! Bress de 
Lor' ! God am good ! Hallelujah ! Hallelujah ! " 

And no less sincerely did Mr. and Mrs. DuMont thank and 
praise Him for His wondrous help in their time of need. The an- 
nouncement that they would have a home once more made their 
hearts and eyes o'erflow with gratitude toward their Heavenly 
Protector. 

And now only an hour could the young soldier stay with this 
happy family. Yes, happy, in spite of all their loss, because they 
thought of the goodness and kindness of their Heavenly Father, 
and with pure faith and trust knew that He would bring good even 
from the misfortune which had befallen them. Very pleasant and 
dear was this hour's communion with their soldier son. They 
trusted him without reserve with all their plans. They had still 
their farm and all their cattle, and before winter much could be 
accomplished. General Washington had sent supplies to satisfy the 
immediate pressing need of the villagers, and had ordered the 
command to do all they could for the suffering ones, which order 
was very efficiently enforced by Gen. George Clinton. 




CHAPTER XIII. 



PRAVELY the young soldier — Lieutenant Beekman — tried to 
I impart to the young girl — Rachel — the counsel, comfort and 
strength that she would need through the years that might 
intervene before he should see her — or^ — but he could not think of 
the other alternative that had lain like a weight on his mind and 
heart. He trusted that their lives ivoidd be spared, and that they 
should be reunited, never again to be separated. To leave his little 
playmate and helpmate was now his greatest sorrow. 

Rachel — brave little patriot, courageous woman — -fdt in the 
innermost recesses of her heart that all would be well, and that 
Tjerck and she should be reunited. So she would be strong ! 
Was she not a woman, now, with the charge of a family on her 
young shoulders.? Truly had she in the events of the last week 
proved herself worthy of the title of Lieutenant-General, and she 
would not now" show a child's weakness. Bravely she bade Tjerck 
"Good-bye," bidding her own wildly-throbbing heart " Be still ! "' 

With an affectionate farewell to each of the family, the young 
soldier whispered something in the ear of the mother, and with one 



56 



i\(acr)cl ©uyior)!. 



parting kiss on Rachel's broad clear brow, and one look in the 
depths of her dark gray eyes — he was gone ! 

Rachel stood where her beloved had left her with one hand over 
her heart, and one shading her eyes, intently watching the retreat- 
ing form of the noble young officer until she could see him no 
longer — then turning to her mother, was clasped to the loving 
mother-heart, where we leave her to be comforted. 




CHAPTER XIV. 

pv lEUTENANT Beekman hurried to camp, and giving his trusted 



\7J 



Yif friend the plans — his own — for the new home of the DuMont 
^^ family — with this friend's sacred promise to direct the speedy 
building of the log-house — he mounted his horse, with a few 
soldiers as body-guard, and started on his journey. Early the next 
morning, a captain in the American uniform, with a company of 
twenty-five men, were at work at the home of little Rachel. Not 
many days passed before they had a very comfortable building, to 
which the family could immediately remove. Rachel had sent all 
the men-servants to help the soldiers, and to gather the harvest. 
She, with her parents and the children, remained where they were, 
until the Captain, Lieutenant Beekman's friend, came to tell them 
everything was in readiness, and to escort them with all needed 
help to their new hom.e. Very faithfully did this officer fulfil every 
promise made. All that could be done for the comfort of this family 
was most zealously and gallantly performed. They were in his 
charge and were cared for tenderly. 

And nov/, having placed my little heroine and her loved ones 
once more in their home, — on their ovrn beloved grounds^ — perhaps 
I should stop. 8 



5S 



l^Gtcl^cl 9uJ^or^t 



But, may be some one or more of my young' readers would like 
to know if Rachel and Tjerck ever met again. So I will spin out 
my story a little longer, and ted the33 interested ones the true 
sequel. At the close of the war, which lasted six years after the 
burning of Kingston, the young soldier, Avho had then obtained a 
captain's commission, came to Rachel's home. And although this 
is not a ''love and marriage" novel, I think I will farther add that 
Captain Beekman and Rachel Du^Mont v/ere married very soon after 
peace was proclaimed. 




7P"93-\ 



CONCLUSION. 



^WaNOTHER fete champetre on Rachers twenty-first birthday, to 
)/Sri< atone for the one that the Britishers had spoiled exactly six 

iMl . . . 

"'^•^" years before. Again is the table laid on the soft sweet grass 
of the old-fashioned lawn, although it is the sixteenth of October. 
But Rachel even had the same beautiful Indian-summer day now for 
her bridal. (God was so good to remember everything.) And 
Isabel as fat and gay as ever, in her brand new red turban, v.'as now, 
as of old, to preside over the good things to eat. The pudding and 
milk was yet intact, but a huge bridal-cake, with "Rachel'" in large 
sugar letters, was even then in its honored place in the centre of the 
table — a chef-d'cciLvre — the product of the loving brain, heart and 
hands of the good old colored woman. This indefatigable, never- 
tiring friend had also filled the hospitable board with delicious 
Dutch rusks, as only Isabel could make, and honey, and olevkoeks,. 
and m.xple sugar, and large red apples, and "?vlaiden Blush" 
apples, and raisins, and white vv'alnuts, and black walnuts, and but- 
ternuts, and delicious cider, 

Now, young friends, isn't that a banquet fit for a king.^ And I 
mu:5t tell you that the cider was poured from the old silver tankard 



6o l^ac^cl Duff)or)f, 

that was among the relics saved that memorable day. And instead 
of tumblers or goblets they used the old blue china that had also 
been rescued from the red-coat Britishers. 

Caesar was still the head-waiter — or, no — the hutler — he wished 
to be called — with his hair braided as of old {on one side). The 
corresponding portion of his head had been bereft of the gray, 
scanty locks by his nephew — the wicked Pompey — one day when 
the poor old man was asleep. He was caught doing it by his father, 
"Uncle Ned/' although Caesar insisted that it was "dem rascally 
Britishers dat wuz tryin to scalp him." Indeed, he was so proud of 
this — his only scar of the war — that he would not cut off the re- 
maining one queue, but clung to it so as to have a chance to tell his 
version of the "scalpin'. " Pompey gave as his excuse for so 
naughty a prank that "Uncle Casse put on mos' too much 'grand- 
iloquism ' for ony a nigger, eben dough him is Missy Rachel's 
buUer. " The other servants were dressed the same as at the other 
party ; indeed, this was their prescribed regalia for state occasions. 

And the bride ! — Beautiful Rachel ! Tall — lithe and graceful in 
every movement — -her dark gray eyes beamed to-day with a quiet, 
tender, tremulous joy. She was robed in her old favorite costume— 
the same that had so filled the eyes of her boy-lover six years before, 
only of some fmer material. (The young Captain had made this 
request). So her countrj-'s colors were her bridal-robe. And the 
luxuriant chestnut-hair, still gleaming with gold, which now reached 
almost to the hem of her skirt — her only bridal-veil. This, too, 
was the young oflficer's taste, which rather shocked some of the 



^ ]irca^c hiilU Q'lA of fl)c l^e^olufior,. 6 I 

orthodox Dutch matrons, who thought it should have been put 
away closely under a cap. 

And the huge silver shoe-buckles (her only ornaments) — the 
same that had for years been so closely linked and tw^ined about 
Rachel's heart, flashed and sparkled with renewed brilliancy, as 
though in truth //ley zvsre in perfect sympathy with the young lovers' 
happy hearts united forever. 

And the old crane, with the kettle — minus one foot — attached, 
which was all that was left of the old home, which the " Britishers" 
burned, — was hung over the bridal-hearth of the charming bride 
and noble bridegroom, the same evening, with appropriate festivi- 
ties. 

Rachel DuMont Beekman lived to the age of ninety-three 
years in the village of Kingston, on the very grounds surrounding 
the home of her childhood and birth. Her husband, the gallant 
soldier of the Revolution, fell at her side at the early age of twenty- 
nine years. He had contracted a severe cold the winter Washington 
was encamped at Valley Forge, where our army suffered such ter- 
rible privations, which made sad inroads upon his naturally strong 
constitution. Rachel was ever true to the memory of her soldier- 
husband to the latest day of her life. She even reproved (in her . 
ninety-third year) one who said that ''Tjerck was rather a liar's,)! 
name," and insisted with all the fervor of early girlhood that it was 
bsaiitiful. Left a widow at the age of twenty-six, with three children, 



62 



I\acl;)cl Duylor)!. 



for S3venty-three years she walked alone the path toward Heaven, 
her life fall of honors, respected and loved by all. 

On her ninety-third birthday, in accordance with her usual 
custom, ]\Irs. Tjerck Beekman had quite a large party of her rela- 
tives and friends. She was robed in a soft gray silk, with white 
mull 'kerchief — her silvery hair, partly covered with a delicate mull 
cap — and entertained her guests with all the grace and vivacity of 
her youth. After the company had gone — qui'.e early in the even- 
ing — she said she thought she would take off the long robe and put 
on the "short gown and petticoat," which had ever been her favorite 
costume from childhood. Telling her daughter, then her only child, 
she ivas h'red, she lay down on her couch, and never arose. A few 
days later she passed to the brighter " Home,"' there to rejoin the 
lover-husband of her early girlhood, never, iicier again to be parted. 




FINIS. 



SHORT time after the death of Captain Tjerck Beekman, 
% General Washini^ton visited Newburgh. The bereaved 
^:s=^young wife of the fallen patriot — with her only boy, a child of 
three years — vvith a double share of her old military fervor, — hastened 
thither to do him honor. Robed in deepest mourning, with her 
fatherless boy in her arms, standing on the side of one of the streets 
through vvliich the military hero was to pass, she was seen by the 
tender-hearted '' Father of our country." An officer at his side who 
knew Tslrs. Eeekman, noticing that Washington had observed her, 
told him that she v/as the wife of Captain Beekman, who was v;ith 
him at Valley Forge. General Washington immediately dis- 
mounted, and v;cnt to the young widowed mother. With a great 
deal of feeling, he took^ her hand, saying a few words, and lifting 
her boy in his strong arms, he kissed the fair baby-brow. Then, 
most courteously, he bade the sorrowing Rachel adieu, and hastened 
to his comrades in waitin.c;. 



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